


Harry Potter and the Star Wars Relation

by Kelly_Grosskreutz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Gen, Inspired by Star Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21759646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelly_Grosskreutz/pseuds/Kelly_Grosskreutz
Summary: A look at how the series might have gone if, after writingHarry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J. K. Rowling had watched the originalStar Warstrilogy one too many times. The story is set entirely in the Harry Potter universe, but the plot is inspired by and somewhat borrowed fromThe Empire Strikes BackandThe Return of the Jedi.





	1. Episode I: The Tangled Past

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally finished on December 17, 2000 and published on various fanfiction sites, as well as my own defunct website. I am in the process of looking through my old works and submitting the ones I still enjoy to this site. This work has not been revised in any way and is as it was in 2000.
> 
> The author is eternally grateful to Lissy, without whom this story would not have been finished. Thank you for all the advice, encouragement, and editing. Many scenes would have been quite different if not for Lissy's guidance.

Harry opened his eyes. He couldn't remember how he had gotten here. Wherever here was.

He was in what appeared to be the top of a warehouse. Grayness everywhere, light coming from he didn't know what. He was lying on a cold, metal catwalk. Below him was a long drop into what appeared to be pure blackness. _Great,_ he thought. _The drop is so far that I can't even see the bottom._

Then he realized that he had even bigger problems than accidentally falling off of the catwalk. For looming above him was none other than his nemesis, Lord Voldemort.

Harry raised himself up onto his elbows, thinking frantically. How was he going to get out of this? He didn't know.

Voldemort spoke in his high, cold voice. "So, Potter, we meet again. And this time, there is no escape for you. None, except for you to join me."

Harry shook his head. "No," he said, using the railing to pull himself to his feet.

"You are beaten, Potter. It is useless to resist." He took a step closer to Harry. Harry stepped back. "Join me, and you will be more powerful than you can possibly imagine."

Harry kept stepping backwards, keeping the same amount of space between himself and Voldemort. He had to stall for time. He had just remembered that he had his wand up his sleeve. One flick of his wrist, and he could bring it down into his hand. He had a chance, after all.

"I will never join you," he said, coming to the end of the catwalk, which was poised over what he presumed to be the middle of the warehouse. He was trapped. It was now or never. He had to make his move.

He assumed a surprised look and pointed with his left hand over Voldemort's shoulder. "Dumbledore, am I ever glad to see you here!"

It worked, but not as well as Harry had hoped. "What!" snarled Voldemort, glancing quickly over his shoulder. Harry flicked his wand down into his right hand and raised it at Voldemort. But, unfortunately for Harry, Voldemort still had his wand pointed at Harry. Harry had only gotten "STUPE-" out of his mouth when Voldemort looked back, saw what Harry was doing, pressed on his wand with his thumb, and chopped off Harry's right hand with the blade that grew out of the wand.

Harry screamed in agony. He'd thought the pains he felt in his scar was bad, but this was ten times worse, a hundred times worse. Clutching his stump to his side, he sank to his knees, crying and moaning in pain.

Voldemort smiled. "Like my new addition?"

Harry spat out something inappropriate to write in a children's book.

Voldemort just shook his head, still smiling. "Now, now, Harry, that wasn't a very nice thing to say, was it? I'm shocked. Especially when I have so much I could tell you, things that I feel I _have_ to tell you-"

"Whatever you have to say to me, I don't want to hear it," spat Harry. "All you have to say are lies."

Voldemort laughed, a high, shrill laugh that pierced Harry's ears. "Interesting that you bring up lies, young Potter."

Harry almost asked, "What do you mean?" but stopped himself before the question left his lips, remembering that he didn't care what Voldemort had to say to him. It looked less and less likely that he would be getting out of this alive.

"What do I mean, you're wondering?" Voldemort asked, reading in Harry's eyes his unspoken question. "Ask yourself, young Potter, do you know everything about what happened the night your parents died?"

Harry used the pole at the end of the catwalk to drag himself to his feet, still keeping his right stump clasped under his left armpit. If he was going to die, he sure didn't want to die on his knees at Voldemort's feet. His parents sure hadn't died like that.

Thinking of his parents, Harry's fear turned to anger. How _dare_ Voldemort talk about them? He's the one who had murdered them, forcing Harry to live with the horrid Dursleys. Not wanting to hear anymore about his parents from their murderer, Harry growled, "He told me enough. He told me you killed them."

Voldemort's smile left his face, a serious look replacing it. "Yes, I did kill them. I admit that. It's rather a pity that your mother had to go all noble and self-sacrificing, too. She really didn't have to die, you know. I told her to keep her nose out of what wasn't her business, but she refused, and she paid the price. I can't help that."

Harry wasn't just angry now. He was downright furious. "Not her own business?" he shouted. "You were wiping out every wizard that opposed you! You had just killed her husband, and you would've killed me next! That _was_ her business!"

Voldemort didn't seem to be bothered by Harry's fury. Instead, he looked pleased by it. "It was her business only because she chose to make it so. You see, Harry, I had come there to discipline my son, and to take my grandson with me."

Harry's anger melted into confusion. What was Voldemort talking about? As far as he knew, no one else had been at his house except for himself and his parents. Had there been other people at their house, people his dad had been hiding from Voldemort? And since when did Voldemort have a son?

Unless, could he mean...no, he couldn't possibly. He'd _seen_ his family, both in the Mirror of Erised and in the photo album he'd been given by Hagrid. Besides..."all my grandparents are dead," he murmured, not realizing he was speaking aloud.

But he realized it a second later, when Voldemort spoke the words that would change his life forever. "No, Harry, they're not. _I_ am your grandfather." 

Even though he'd seen it coming, Harry was still stunned. He found himself moaning, "No, it can't be true. That's impossible. My grandparents are dead."

Voldemort continued on, as earnest as Harry had ever heard him. "Search your feelings, Harry. You know it to be true."

"NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" screamed Harry.

"Harry, you can't deny it. It's a part of who you are. I came to your house, years ago, to kill your father, this is true. He'd defied me, his own father, one time too often, and he had to be punished for his mistake. But I also came to take you. Your mother wouldn't let me take you, so I had to punish her as well. But you are my heir, Harry, and the heir of Slytherin. I have fought all these years to conquer the world, and it will be all yours after I die. You'll inherit it! Join with me, Harry, and we can rule as grandfather and grandson!"

Harry didn't know what to do. He was still reeling over finding out he was related to Voldemort, the most evil wizard who had ever lived. But he knew one thing. He could never join him. Not after all the things that Voldemort had done, not just to his family, but to all people everywhere. He would rather die than join Voldemort.

And with that realization, he knew that that's exactly what he had to do. If he stayed where he was, Voldemort would have him and keep trying to get him to join with him. But that wasn't his only choice.

Harry let go of the pole and stood up straight. He looked Voldemort in the eyes and calmly said, "I'll never join with you, Voldemort." Then he turned and jumped off the edge of the catwalk into the darkened abyss below.

Harry fell for what felt like hours, but had to have been only seconds. Then he felt himself slowing until he hung suspended in midair. Before he'd had a chance to wonder what was going on, he saw a tiny light that he realized a second later was the tip of a wand glowing. A voice he thought he would never hear again exclaimed, "Harry! Climb onto the back of my broomstick!"

Hermione Granger maneuvered her broomstick so that Harry could position himself on the back of it. Putting his uninjured arm around her waist so he wouldn't fall off, he sank against her back, letting her fly them out of the place and away from Voldemort. Voldemort, who was his grandfather.

Harry closed his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me, Dumbledore?" he whispered brokenly, tears streaming down his face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He was still crying silently when Hermione set them down at Hogwarts.


	2. Episode II: The Moment of Truth

It was a couple of weeks later, and Harry was sitting alone in the dormitory. Everyone else was at Hogsmeade enjoying the beautiful spring day, but he didn't feel much like socializing lately. The sun was bright and warm, but it could do nothing to brighten up or warm Harry's spirits.

He still couldn't believe that he was Voldemort's grandson. He didn't _want_ to believe it. How could he be related to the most vile wizard that had ever lived?

He had many questions, but no answers appeared to be forthcoming. When he had come back to Hogwarts two weeks ago, he was in really bad shape. Hermione helped him off of the broom, and Professor McGonagall had immediately whisked him up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had been able to grow back his hand, but she could do nothing for the ache in his heart.

He spent a week in the hospital wing, but Dumbledore did not come to see him. When he asked Professor McGonagall if he could talk to him, she said that he'd been called away from Hogwarts. It seemed that some of the Death Eaters had tortured and murdered every Muggle in a little village about fifty kilometers from London. It was unknown when he would return.

Harry told Ron and Hermione everything that had happened except for Voldemort's revelation. He wasn't exactly sure how they would take the news. Even more so, he just didn't want to talk about it. No, this was something he had to think about on his own first. Was it true? If so, would this change anything? And why didn't Dumbledore ever tell him?

The sun gradually set. Ron came up to the dormitory and made Harry come downstairs to eat. He sat and listened as Ron and Hermione told him about the wonderful day they'd had at Hogsmeade, the wizard's village located nearby.

"You really should have come, Harry," Ron was saying. "You missed seeing Professor Flitwick kiss Professor Sprout."

"He did?" Harry asked, trying to sound interested for Ron's sake. Under other circumstances, he would've been interested for real.

"Yes, he did, right on the cheek. You should've seen her blush!"

The image did bring a little smile to Harry's face, but it didn't last long. The uncertainty and despair came back to drive away the happy thought.

"You just _have_ to come with us next time, Harry," Ron continued. "It's just not the same without you there."

Harry muttered, "We'll see. Maybe next time."

Hermione rested a hand gently on his shoulder. "Harry, you can't hide here forever. Moping like this isn't going to help."

Ron looked helplessly at Harry. "You've been face to face with You Know Who before. I've never seen you act like this. I haven't pressed you before because I figured you'd tell us what was wrong when you were ready, but I can't sit here anymore and watch you tear yourself apart without doing anything. Please, Harry, talk to us."

Hermione nodded. "We're your friends, Harry. If you can talk to anyone, you can talk to us."

Harry, who'd been staring at the table while they were talking, let out a great shudder. A moment later, he raised his head and looked at them.

"It's not that I don't trust you guys," he began, slowly and quietly, "but I just don't know how to talk about it. I know I should, though."

"Yes, you should," Hermione said adamantly.

He paused for another moment, then quietly said, "I feel like I've got a dementor always around me. Like I'll never be happy again, and everything's hopeless."

Harry stopped talking. He just sat with his head bowed. Ron and Hermione waited patiently for a minute or so, then Ron blurted out, "What _happened_ to you in that place, Harry? What did Voldemort say to you?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but, just then, Hagrid burst into the Great Hall and ran straight for Harry. His face was white, his eyes wide. "Harry!" he exclaimed, panting for breath. "You've got ter come wi' me! Right away!"

"What's wrong, Hagrid?" Harry asked, truly concerned. He'd never seen Hagrid look this afraid before. For it was fear that was plastered on Hagrid's face. Fear, but yet, not just fear. There was something else in Hagrid's eyes.

Hagrid took a shuddering breath. "It's Dumbledore, Harry," he panted. "He's back, and he's askin' ter see yeh. Yeh've got ter come, quick."

Harry heard Hermione gasp, saw Ron's mouth drop open in shock, but it only registered in the back of his mind. He got up quickly and followed Hagrid from the room.

* * * * * * *

They hurried to the hospital wing. Hagrid was walking at such a fast pace the whole way that Harry had to run just to keep up. He was working so hard at doing this that he almost didn't notice when Hagrid stopped outside of the hospital wing doors, and he stopped himself from running into Hagrid's back just in time.

Hagrid turned to face Harry and knelt down next to him, putting himself at eye-level with Harry. "I think I should tell yeh a few things before yeh go in there, Harry," Hagrid said quietly.

Harry asked, "Professor Dumbledore's hurt, isn't he, Hagrid?"

Hagrid nodded, but didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

"He's not going to make it, isn't he." It wasn't a question.

Hagrid fought back tears. He appeared to be having problems winning the fight. Little escapees were trickling down his face. He shook his head sorrowfully. "No, Harry, he's hurt too bad."

"What happened? How could this have happened?" Harry blurted out, in tears now.

Hagrid patted him on the shoulder. "That's a long story, and there's no' time to tell it to yeh now. Yeh've got t' go in and talk t' Dumbledore. Now, dry yer eyes. Be strong, fer Dumbledore's sake. Save them fer after he's gone."

Harry wiped his eyes and blew his nose on a handkerchief that Hagrid lent him. Hagrid gave him another moment to pull himself together, then he quietly opened the door and motioned for Harry to go inside.

Harry had been in the hospital wing quite a few times since he'd first come to school at Hogwarts, but he'd never seen it like this, not even after Cedric Diggory had died. Flitwick and Sprout sat together, holding each other's hands, looking like two little kids scared of the dark. Both had tears streaming down their face. Other professors were huddled together in little groups, talking quietly, casting glances at a curtain that surrounded the bed in the far corner. Madam Pomfrey stood outside of the curtain, on guard. At first glance, it looked like everyone was there, but Harry noticed some notable absences. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Professor Snape were all missing.

Harry's gut was already churning, but his heart leaped into his throat at noticing Sirius and Lupin were missing. They, along with Moody, had accompanied Professor Dumbledore on his ill-fated mission. He didn't want to think the worst had happened, but their absence struck an ominous chord within Harry.

On the other hand, Harry was not in the least bit surprised that Professor Snape was not there. Snape had disappeared over two weeks ago. That in itself was not unusual. Since Voldemort had come back onto the scene, Snape had taken to leaving Hogwarts for short periods of time. But he'd never been gone for this long, and rumors were starting to fly around the school about his absence. Harry didn't know where Snape was, but he had a bad feeling about it.

As for McGonagall...just as he'd begun to wonder what had become of her, she emerged from behind the curtains surrounding the bed in the corner. Her shoulders were bowed as if a great weight rested upon them, but her head was high, and there was not a tear in her eye as she looked at Harry and motioned him over.

"He's ready to see you, Harry," she said, giving him a little squeeze on his shoulder. Madam Pomfrey didn't say anything, just held aside the curtain just enough to let him pass.

Albus Dumbledore smiled up at Harry as he approached the bed. Harry was shocked at his appearance, but did his best not to show it. Hagrid was right. Dumbledore didn't need to see grief and despair in his final hour.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, his voice only a little softer than normal. His eyes twinkled as he looked upon Harry, but there was pain in them as well. Harry kept his eyes on Dumbledore's face, determined not to look down at his waist, where the bedsheets were slowly turning red.

"You asked to see me?"

"Yes, Harry, I did. I haven't had a chance to talk to you since your latest encounter with Voldemort."

Voldemort. His grandfather. The last few minutes had driven that completely out of his mind, but now it came flooding back. He opened his mouth to ask Dumbledore the questions that had been plaguing him since his return, but something in him told him to stop and let Dumbledore speak first.

Dumbledore smiled gently up at Harry. "Professor McGonagall has told me about that meeting. Both from what she said and from looking at you, I can tell that there are some things you'd like to talk about."

Harry felt he should be surprised that Dumbledore had divined his thoughts so easily, but he was beginning to not be surprised at anything having to do with Dumbledore. Anything, except...but now was not the time to dwell on that. Harry nodded his head.

Dumbledore's face grew serious. "Yes, I thought as much. Well, then, go ahead and ask me your question."

Harry swallowed and took a deep breath. This was the moment he had been both anticipating and dreading ever since he had been rescued by Hermione. "Professor, when I last saw Voldemort, he said some things. I'm not sure whether or not I should believe them." He paused, gathering his courage, then blurted out in a rush, "Professor, is Voldemort my grandfather?"

Dumbledore let out a sigh, as if something he had been dreading had come to pass. "Yes, Harry. He is your grandfather."

Harry bowed his head a moment to let the revelation settle in his mind. So, it was true. Voldemort hadn't been lying. Somehow, he hadn't thought so, but he'd been hoping...

Harry opened his mouth, but Dumbledore spoke before the question left his lips. "Why weren't you told?" Harry nodded. "What good would it have done to have told you?"

"Well," stammered Harry, having never thought of this, "if he is my grandfather, don't I have a right to know?"

Dumbledore nodded, then grimaced in pain. The grimace disappeared as quickly as it had come, though. "Yes, Harry, you're right. You did have a right to know. I guess I was just being an old man and trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" Harry didn't understand that. What did he mean, protect him?

"I was afraid that this knowledge would devastate you, demoralize you." A look passed across Harry's face briefly. Dumbledore smiled gently and murmured, "I wasn't completely wrong, was I?"

Harry gave voice to his greatest fear. "I just don't know what to make of it. I've heard so many good things about my mother and my father, then I find out that my grandfather is none other than the most vile wizard that has ever walked the world. And then I have to ask myself, could I be like that? What are the chances of me turning into another Voldemort?"

Harry's heart was now in his throat. What if Dumbledore said he was doomed, that he had a good chance of turning out evil? What would he do?

"Harry, do you remember when you questioned me about whether the Sorting Hat had done right in putting you in Gryffindor?" Harry nodded. "Do you remember what I said then?"

"You told me that it was our choices that show who we truly are, not our abilities."

"That's right, Harry. That bit of wisdom also applies for bloodlines. Your father was also Voldemort's son, but he chose to stand against him. You can also choose to do the same."

A weight lifted from Harry's heart. "I do choose to stand against him, Professor. But how am I supposed to fight him? He seems to be able to defeat anyone, even..." He stopped, his voice choked off by tears he could no longer fully hold back.

"Even me?" Dumbledore finished quietly. "Harry, I want you to understand something. Voldemort thinks that this war will be won by the most powerful wizard. I, too, once believed that. I believe now that that's why we were at a standstill in the last war. But Voldemort was not stopped last time through great feats of magical power. He was stopped by a power greater than any magical spell, the power of your mother's love for you.

"Yes, Harry, love. One of the most beautiful, positive emotions that can be known to mankind. This war, as well, will not be won by flinging powerful magical spells at each other. This war will be won by people with love in their hearts. Love, and coupled with that, faith.

"Your mother loved you enough to die for you. Your love for your friends and concern for your fellow students has given you the strength to face things that would make many an adult run away in fear. Your willingness to trust in me saved you from Voldemort at least once."

Dumbledore sighed and, as he continued to speak, Harry noticed his voice was getting weaker. "I won't lie to you, Harry. If you truly want to defeat Voldemort, the road will not be easy. Many more will suffer and die unless a few have the courage and the heart to act. But, if this war is ever to end, you must confront Voldemort one last time."

Harry shuddered. Dumbledore's eyes saw this and filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry that you will have to do this," he continued, his voice weaker yet. "The only thing I can say in reassurance is that I believe that you can do this. I do want you to keep in mind, though, that if ever you do need help, you can call on Severus Snape."

"Snape?!" Harry exclaimed. "But he's one of _them!_ A Death Eater. He's gone back over to their side! And you tell me that I can trust _him?_

"Don't believe everything you hear," Dumbledore said firmly. "And you will hear quite a bit about Snape before this thing is through. You will find it even harder to trust him, yet trust him you must. It could be the one thing that will save you and enable this war to finally end."

Harry felt his stomach drop just a bit lower than where it had been before. Trust Snape? Why should he? The man _hated_ him! Okay, so he had thought once before that Snape was trying to kill him when he'd actually been trying to save his life, but that was years ago. Surely the debt that Snape felt he owed to James Potter couldn't still be hanging over his head?

"I don't know if I can trust him, Professor," Harry said truthfully.

"Then Voldemort has already won," sighed Dumbledore sadly. It was getting harder and harder to hear him. "It is true that Snape is back with the Death Eaters but, to be honest, I'm not sure he truly knows which side he's on. But _I_ know. I have faith in him, and I'm asking you to have faith in him, too. Try not to let your dislike of him cloud your thinking on this, for this is too important to let petty hatreds blind you."

Harry couldn't help but mutter beneath his breath, "Tell that one to Snape."

"Harry," breathed Dumbledore. Harry had to put his ear down by Dumbledore's mouth to hear him now. "There...is...another...Pott...err..." His voice dwindled down to a barely heard whisper at the end of that sentence. Then, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorceror, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and chief opposer of Lord Voldemort, closed his eyes and died.

Harry, stunned by all he had heard, could only bow his head.


	3. Episode III: The Decision

Harry took a deep, steadying breath and pushed aside the curtain surrounding Professor Dumbledore's bed just enough to let himself pass. Madam Pomfrey, standing by the curtain, asked hesitantly, "Is he...?"

Harry nodded once. Pomfrey bowed her head as tears started streaming down her face. "I figured as much, I told him as much when he asked, there wasn't really anything I could do for him, but I just kept hoping...oh, _whyyy?_ She broke down then, turning her back on Harry.

Professor Trelawney walked over, put an arm around Pomfrey's shoulders, and led her away from the curtained bed. "It's ok, Poppy. Knowing ahead of time is always worse, isn't it?"

Harry tried to ignore the sight of all his teachers in various states of grief, and cast his eyes around the infirmary for Professor McGonagall. He walked over to where she was standing by the door, looking much the same as always, if not for the tear that escaped from her eyes every so often. "He's gone, Professor," he said quietly, not knowing what else to say.

"I know, Harry. But we must carry on. He would've wanted us to." She looked as if though she were trying to take comfort from her own words.

"So now what happens, Professor?"

She sighed. "We carry on, best we can. I've been left in charge of the school, you know. As for you, the first thing you need to do is to go up to Professor Dumbledore's office."

Harry was confused. "Why?"

She managed to give him a little smile. "There's someone there who's been waiting to talk to you."

Harry smiled as well.

* * * * * * *

Harry opened the door to Professor Dumbledore's study to find the one person he was hoping to see. "Sirius!" he cried, running over to him and flinging his arms around Sirius's neck. "Oh, Sirius, I thought I'd never see you again!"

Sirius put his arms around Harry and held onto him tightly. "It's okay, Harry," he said soothingly, "I'm here, I'm all right. It's all right now, Harry."

"No, it's not!" Harry exclaimed, pushing back from Sirius. Tears were streaming down his face as he finally allowed himself to cry. "It's not all right, nothing's all right! Professor Dumbledore's _dead_!" He began to cry harder.

Sirius reached out and drew Harry back into his arms. Harry rested his head on Sirius's shoulder and cried harder than he had ever cried before in his life.

Awhile later, when he had cried everything inside of him out and was feeling a little better, Harry pulled away from Sirius and looked him straight in the eyes. "Sirius, I have to know. What happened to Professor Dumbledore? How could this have happened?"

Sirius, looking like he'd aged twenty years in just a few days, sighed deeply. "Where do I start?" He stopped for a moment, eyes staring off into the distance. Harry sat down in the chair next to Sirius. "Tell me what you already know. That'd probably be the easiest."

Harry thought. "Well, I know that a few weeks ago Professor Dumbledore, you, Moody, and Lupin went to a Muggle village. From what I heard, every person in the village had been tortured and murdered by the Death Eaters, and the four of you went to investigate it."

Sirius nodded. "Basically, yes. But there's a lot more to the story than that. But I'm sure you figured out that much." Harry nodded.

"For example, I bet you didn't know the name of the village in question." Harry shook his head. "It was Godric's Hollow."

"Godric's Hollow?" Harry asked, astonished. "But isn't that the place where my parents lived, where they were..." His voice trailed off as the mention of his parents made him think of Dumbledore, who has also lost his life at Godric's Hollow.

"Yes, it was, Harry," Sirius confirmed.

"But, why did-"

"Because it's the one place they could attack that they knew Dumbledore would have to go check out," Sirius said heavily.

"But what was there?" persisted Harry, not understanding. "This didn't have something to do with my parents, did it?" _Or me?_

"No, Harry, it had nothing to do with your parents," Sirius replied, shaking his head. "I wondered the same thing, when Dumbledore told us we were going there. And now that I know the reason, I still can't believe it."

Harry was growing more and more confused by the moment. "You can't believe what?"

Sirius lost control of himself and started to rant and rave. "I can't believe that that no-good backstabbing git did that to Dumbledore. How could he? After all Dumbledore did for him, took him in, saved his mother, gave him a chance that _no one_ else would _ever_ have given him? Especially after what they had just done to his mother, how in the name of all that's good could he have _done_ that?!" By this time, Sirius had risen from his seat and was pacing the room, his fists clenched. "If I ever see him again, I will personally tear his head off with my own two hands!"

He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, Sirius unclenched his fists, took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then came back over to his chair and sat back down. "I'm sorry, Harry. Didn't mean to lose control of my temper there. It's just...if you had been there, had seen..."

Harry couldn't stand this anymore. "What _did_ happen, Sirius?" he demanded.

Sirius's lips twisted themselves into a very brief smile. "I've been rambling. I know. It's just...oh, you're right. I'd better just spit this story out.

"Okay, you know that Professor Dumbledore, Professor Moody, Remus, and I went to Godric's Hollow, and that the people there were tortured and murdered." Harry nodded a little impatiently, but Sirius continued on, not noticing. "What you don't know is that Snape's mother lived there."

Harry gasped. That's the last thing he was expecting to hear. _I guess I never even_ thought _about him having a mother before, let alone that she lived there,_ he thought.

"Yes, she was living there, hidden there by Dumbledore himself. It's a long story but, years ago, Snape found out her life was endangered by Voldemort and begged Dumbledore to protect her. They faked her death, and Dumbledore, with the help of your father, hid her away. No one, not even Snape, knew where she was, but Voldemort must've finally figured out the truth. He knew that a threat to her was one of the few things that could draw Dumbledore out of Hogwarts, and he took full advantage of it."

Sirius paused again briefly, then picked up his story. "We walked through the village until we came to the center. There, a horrible sight met our eyes. We found one person tied to a pole in the center of the village. It was an older woman, and I won't even describe what had been done to her. The only part of her that had been untouched was her face. The rest of her..." Sirius trailed off, shuddering.

"Anyway, even though I'd never met her, I knew that this had to have been Snape's mother. She looked enough like him, you see. I kept staring at her face, thinking over and over, 'So this is what happens when you betray Voldemort.' For the first time in my life, I actually felt sorry for Snape." A look of anger came back into Sirius's eyes, and he spat, "And that'll be the _last_ time!"

Harry wanted to ask why, but stopped himself. He didn't want to interrupt Sirius again. So he forced himself to wait patiently as Sirius resumed telling his story. "I don't think any of us could stop staring at her. To tell you the truth, I don't even know why we were staring at her in the first place. We'd all seen death before, after all, death as bad, if not worse, than this. But for some reason, something about this one just hit us in a way most of those others never had."

Sirius shook his head mournfully. "That was our big mistake. All of us were staring at her when the Death Eaters jumped us. If it weren't for Mad-Eye Moody and his roving eye, I wouldn't be sitting here now. We all would've been slaughtered without even getting off a spell. But he saw them as they moved out of their hiding places and was able to warn us."

Sirius's voice dropped, and his eyes stared back in time to the terrible battle. He seemed to forget that Harry was even there, but was instead reliving the battle. "They're coming at us from all directions. Death Eaters everywhere. Where should I turn first? I start blasting them, trying to keep them back from me and Remus. It seems like we do this for hours, but we finally get them to back away from us for a minute, and we can catch our breaths.

"I look around the village. The other three are alive. I breathe a sigh of relief. Then Moony shouts, 'Wormtail! You will pay, "old friend!"' I turn and, sure enough, it's Peter. A murderous rage overcomes me, and I chase after him. I hear Moony behind me yelling, 'Padfoot, wait for me!'

"Peter's running fast, but not fast enough to escape me. I catch him and thrust him into Remus's arms, shouting, 'Hold onto him and don't let go!' Remus is holding him so tightly that Peter's arms must be close to breaking. Peter is begging and pleading with us, but I ignore him. A red haze fills my vision, and the next thing I know, Peter is lying at our feet, dead. I look upon Wormtail and feel better than I have since before James was killed.

"Then something happens that chills me to the bone. I hear Snape's voice, cold, hate-filled, yet strangely dead as well, echo clearly over the din, "Headmaster! You're a dead man!" I'm turning, trying to get to Snape, but everything's moving in slow motion. Snape slowly points his wand at Dumbledore and says, in that same voice, _'Crucio!'_

"Dumbledore collapses to the ground, twitching and writhing. My God, his screams! They go right through me, and I know they will be haunting my dreams for as long as I live. I run at Snape, shouting words, I have no idea what, and tackle him before he can react.

"He's fighting me. I never knew he was this strong! It's all I can do to hold my own. But those horrible screams stop, and I know that at least I was able to make him lose his hold on the spell.

"I'm finally able to knock him out, but before I can deliver a killing blow, Moony's pulling me off of him. 'Not now, Padfoot!' he exclaims. 'We've got to help Dumbledore!'

"I look over and see that he's right. Dumbledore is slowly rising to his feet, and Moody's all alone holding off the Death Eaters. We start heading over to them, but are jumped by about five more Death Eaters. In the midst of fighting them, a sight catches my eye that freezes my blood.

"Another Death Eater steps out from behind a building and points his wand straight at Dumbledore. I try to break free, but I can't. There're too many! I'm never going to get there in time! Professor Dumbledore! Turn around!

"He's turning, but too slowly. Macnair opens his mouth and says those fateful words, _"Avada Kedavra!"_ As he speaks, Moody, moving faster than I would have thought possible, knocks Dumbledore out of the way. A green light shoots out of the wand, and Moody is gone.

"Lupin and I finish off the Death Eaters in our way and join Dumbledore. I raise my wand and blast Macnair before he can get off another spell. Spells are zinging by so fast I lose track of what's going on. Then I spot Lucius Malfoy taking a shot at Moony. I yell a warning to Moony, and he jumps back as a bolt of lightning shoots out of Malfoy's wand.

"I see Dumbledore climbing back to his feet. Wait a minute! No, oh, my God, NO! He's standing up right where Moony just was, right into the path of Malfoy's lightning bolt! The bolt burns through his chest, slamming him to the ground.

"I run over and kneel down beside him. Moony is standing over us, holding the attackers back. 'Is he alive, Sirius?' he gasps.

"'Yeah, but he's badly hurt,' I reply, frantically ripping my shirt apart to try to cover the wound.

"'You've got to get him back to Hogwarts.'

"I start to pick up Dumbledore, being as careful as I can so as not to hurt him further, when what Remus is saying gets through to me. 'What about you?' I ask, even though I think I already know the answer.

"'Don't worry about me, Padfoot. What's important now is that Dumbledore gets the medical attention he needs. I'll buy you the time you need to get him back.'

"I set Dumbledore gently back on the ground again and blast yet another Death Eater. Crabbe, I think it is this time. 'You take him back, Remus. I'll buy you two the time.'

"Moony turns to me, an intent and determined look on his face. 'No, Sirius, I have to be the one to stay behind.' I open to my mouth to argue with him, but he won't let me get a word in. 'You're Harry's godfather. You need to go back and keep an eye on him. Besides, I can do more damage in my wolf form. I'll take care of these guys and meet you back at Hogwarts.'

"Damn him! Why did he have to mention Harry? He knew that that'd be the one thing that could make me leave. I grip his shoulder tightly. He smiles sadly at me for a moment, then turns back towards the Death Eaters, who are moving in on us, and yells, 'Go on, Sirius!'

"I gently pick up Dumbledore again and move back from Moony. My last glimpse of him before I apparate back to the Hogwarts grounds is his transformation into wolf form, snarling at the Death Eaters, who are pointing their wands at him..."

At this, Sirius's voice trailed off, and he began to cry. Harry, his face white, could only sit for a moment, stunned, his mind still going over all that Sirius had told him, then he stood up and put an arm around Sirius's shoulders.

A minute or so later, Sirius wiped away his tears and patted Harry on the shoulder. "Thanks," Sirius murmured.

They were both silent for a time, lost in their own thoughts. Then Sirius turned to Harry and said rather abruptly, "So, Harry, did you have anything else you wanted to tell me or ask me about?"

Harry, his deliberations interrupted, gave a start. "Yeah, actually, I do," he replied, having remembered only now that he did, indeed, have something else to ask Sirius. "When I spoke with Professor Dumbledore before he-I came to see you, he said that there was another Potter. Do you have any idea what he meant by that?"

Sirius sighed gently, then murmured, "The other Dumbledore spoke of was your twin sister."

Harry didn't think he could be any more confused and surprised than he already was, but he found that he was both. "But, Sirius, I don't have a sister."

Sirius nodded his head. "Yes, Harry, you do." At Harry's credulous look, Sirius continued, "It's a long story, Harry. When Voldemort was almost at the height of his power, Professor Trelawney gave a prediction that rocked the wizarding world. _'The Heir of Slytherin will only meet his match in a Child of the Heir.'"_

"A Child of the Heir?" Harry repeated.

"That's what she said," affirmed Sirius. "It was about this time that your mother discovered that she was pregnant. Your father, fearing that Voldemort would think that his unborn child was the one spoken of in the prophecy, sent Lily into hiding with myself and...Remus." Sirius could not say Remus's name without a catch in his throat.

"Well, soon enough, she found out that she was pregnant with not one, but two, children. We sent an owl to James, who wrote back that he'd talk with Dumbledore and see if he had any advice about what to do next."

Sirius's eyes brightened as he recalled a better time in his life. "Your mum was still with us when it was time to give birth. We sent word to James, and your dad was able to make it in time to see the two of you born. Moony and I left while Lily was giving birth, but I still remember the look in your dad's eyes when he showed us the two of you. I remember holding onto your sister, Carrie, and thinking how precious and yet how fragile the two of you were."

"Carrie? My sister's name is Carrie?" Harry interrupted.

Sirius nodded, smiling. "Yes. Lily said she was born about five minutes before you were. I'd never seen James and Lily so happy in my life as they were holding the two of you. It about broke my heart when I found out what James was going to do."

"And what was that?" Harry asked breathlessly, totally engrossed in the story.

"To protect you from Lord Voldemort, he had decided to have one of you hidden away. He knew, you see, that he and any of his offspring would be potential targets, since any of them could be the one of which the prophecy spoke. He chose to hide your sister away in the hopes that, even if Voldemort did manage to kill you three, she would still be alive and able to bring about his downfall someday."

* * * * * * *

Harry paused in his retelling. Ron exclaimed, "Well, come on, Harry, don't keep us in suspense. Who is she?"

Hermione chimed in, "Yeah, Harry, who is she?"

Harry sighed. "That's what _I_ asked. Sirius didn't know."

Ron's mouth dropped open. "How could he _not_ know? Wasn't he your father's best friend and your godfather?"

"He said that both he and Lupin had offered to hide her, but that my dad had declined the offer, saying that he had the perfect person in mind already to do it. Both he and Lupin left them for one night, and when they came back the next morning, she was gone. Sirius never did find out who had been entrusted with her," Harry finished quietly.

Ron and Hermione were silent for a moment, waiting to see if Harry would speak again. When he didn't, Hermione asked, "Did he say anything else?"

Harry shook his head. "I didn't really stay much longer. He'd obviously told me everything he knew, and I could tell that he wanted to be alone." 

The three of them were silent again, staring into the fire. Ron kept stealing worried glances at Harry, who didn't take his eyes off of the fire. Ron then murmured, almost to himself, "I wonder where she could be?"

Hermione added, "Or even who she is."

Ron looked at her, confused. "What do you mean, who she is? Her name's Carrie Potter.

Hermione sighed, exasperated. "Think, Ron. They hid her away so no one would be able to find her. You think they're still calling her Carrie Potter? Obviously, they changed her name."

"Sometimes I feel so stupid," Ron muttered irritably. "Just how are we supposed to find this girl? Just ask every girl our age if they were adopted as a baby?"

"There has to be an easier way than that," mused Hermione. "First of all, if she's Harry's twin sister, she must be going to a wizarding school. We can do some investigating here at Hogwarts first, but there's no guarantee she's even going here. Once we can conclude she's not here, we can contact Viktor and Fleur to see if they'll help us look at their schools."

"How are we going to investigate, though?" Ron asked, sounded more and more frustrated by the minute. "Ask every girl if they were adopted? Ask them their birthday? And I don't know if we should let Viktor and Fleur in on this. After all, she's supposed to be hidden. I don't know if we should be broadcasting this information to the entire wizarding world."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment, a gray spotted owl flew in through the window and dropped a letter into Harry's lap. None of them had seen this owl, which seemed to be wearing a white ribbon with a small, golden key on it, before. The owl, after depositing its letter, flew over to perch on the windowsill.

Harry opened up the letter and read it to himself. Ron and Hermione grouped around him anxiously. "Who's it from, Harry?" Ron asked.

Hermione chimed in, "And what do they want?"

Harry stared off for a moment, deep in thought. Then he said quietly, "It's from Snape. He wants to meet with me."

Both Ron's and Hermione's mouths dropped open. Ron said increduously, "Snape? What does that dirty, rotten traitor want with you?"

"He doesn't say," Harry replied in that same quiet voice. "All he says is that I must meet with him within the hour, that he needs to talk, and that the key around this owl's neck will take me to him."

Hermione finally found her voice. "Don't tell me you're seriously considering going?"

"Harry, you _can't_ go," Ron said. "He's a traitor, you heard what he did to Dumbledore, all he wants you for is so that he can turn you over to You Know Who!"

Harry raised his voice slightly. "Yes, I heard what he did. But I also heard what Dumbledore said to me before he died. He told me that, despite anything that anyone says, I can trust Snape, that our only hope may lie in trusting him."

Ron snarled furiously, "But there's no way you can trust that lying snake!"

"He may have been on our side once, but he's one of them now. It has to be a trap!" added Hermione.

"I don't know what to believe anymore!" Harry snapped angrily. "All I know is that, one way or the other, I want this to end. I'm sick of having to deal with Voldemort at least once a year. I'm sick of him killing off my friends and wondering every day which one's going to be next. I'm just sick of it."

Harry took a deep breath, then said more calmly, "If Snape's on our side, then maybe he can help me take down Voldemort. If he's truly a Death Eater, and he turns me over to Voldemort, then I'll probably be killed. Either way, it'll be over."

"No, it won't," Hermione shouted. "You Know Who will still be around, still in power, and we'll still have to deal with him. Don't you see, you're the Child spoken of in the prophecy. You're the only one who can defeat the Dark Lord. But if you go too soon, then we're all doomed!"

"If I'm killed, then my sister will have to bring him down," Harry said shortly. "Maybe she's the one in the prophecy. There's only one way to find out."

"Harry, don't go," Hermione pleaded. She was crying now, clinging to his arm. "Run away. Run away so far that You Know Who can never find you."

Harry patted her on the arm gently, then said sadly, "I'm sorry, Hermione, but that won't work. It might take him some time, but he'd find me anyway. No, I have to face him. There's no other way."

Ron, who had been silent throughout this exchange, suddenly stepped forward and pulled Hermione gently away from Harry.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed, trying to pull away from Ron and not succeeding. She turned to him, shocked and angry at the same time. "Ron, let go of me! You've got to help me stop him!"

Ron shook his head. He looked like he was about to cry, too, but there was also a strength about him that had never been there before. Hermione looked like she wanted to fight him again, but stood still after looking up at his face.

"No, Hermione," he murmured. "Harry's right. This has to end someday. He can't go on like this forever."

Ron then looked over at Harry. An expression of deepest gratitude crossed Harry's face as Ron's eyes bade him goodbye. "Thank you, my friend," Harry said simply.

Ron gave a slight nod. "Come back to us, Harry."

Harry gave them both one last, long look, then turned and walked out the door.

Ron and Hermione went over to the window, arms around each other. Within a few minutes, they could see Harry striding purposefully across the grounds. The owl lifted off from the windowsill and followed him. When Harry reached the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, they saw the owl fly down low enough for him to reach it. Then Harry, without looking back at the castle, lifted his hand, touched the key, and disappeared.


	4. Episode IV: The Return of Snape

Harry let go of the key and stood in the almost perfect darkness, trying to catch his breath. Using a Portkey to apparate may be pretty quick timewise, but the journey was always so rough and the arrival so abrupt, it always took him a minute to recover. He was relieved to see that he had, at least, been able to remain on his feet this time.

He looked around him, trying to get an idea of his surroundings. The first thing he saw was the outline of a banister to his right. It was then he realized that the darkness wasn't absolute. Turning, he looked out the window and saw moonlight. Far from streaming inside, however, the light seemed unable to touch the house in which he was standing.

He caught a glimpse of a shack and some buildings farther away when a soft voice made him turn back. "So, Potter, you did come after all. I wasn't sure if you would show up."

_Darn!_ Harry thought. _I walk into what's probably the most dangerous place there is, and I go and leave my back unguarded._

Turning around, he was barely able to make out the figure of what had once been his Potions teacher. Snape was standing about two paces away. Since Harry hadn't heard anything, it made him wonder if Snape had been standing there all along and he just hadn't seen him. That thought made Harry cringe inwardly.

"Yes, I came," Harry said disdainfully. "You said you wanted to talk. So let's talk."

Snape opened his mouth to reply, but just then Harry heard the one voice he had been half hoping, half afraid to hear. "Are you planning to bring him in here, Severus, or did you decide to kill him in the hallway?"

Snape flinched and turned towards the door at the end of the hall. Light seeped through the crack at the bottom of the door. "Yes, Master, I'm bringing him in now," he called, reaching out and grabbing Harry's arm.

Harry tried to jerk away, but Snape's hold was too strong. Gripping his arm painfully, Snape drug Harry down the hall, opened the door, threw him into the room, and shut the door behind them both.

Harry, sprawled on the floor, lifted his nose off of the tasseled end of a rug and saw that he was in what appeared to be a sitting room. A fireplace was lit, providing the only source of light. An armchair sat on the rug, facing toward the fire. He didn't get to see much else, because just then the owner of that dreaded voice rose from the chair.

Harry couldn't stop himself from shuddering slightly. It was Lord Voldemort. Realizing that he was on his knees before him, Harry scrambled to his feet.

Voldemort didn't even seem to notice. His red eyes were focused on Snape. "You didn't have to be so rough on him, Severus," he chided, a mild rebuke in his voice. "Is that any way to treat my grandson?"

"Your grandson?" The question was asked normally enough, but Harry, curious to see Snape's reaction, was surprised. Instead of shock, Snape, strangely enough, looked angry. _I thought he'd be kind of satisfied to know that I was related to the most evil wizard that ever lived._

"Yes, Severus." Voldemort almost sounded like he was gloating.

Harry had had enough of being talked about like he wasn't there. "What do you want, Grandfather?" he asked crossly.

Voldemort smiled triumphantly. "Ah, so you have finally admitted the truth, Harry."

"If you mean that you are my biological grandfather, yes. But that's all you are to me."

Voldemort frowned slightly. "Now you sound just like your father. He said almost exactly the same thing. He continually refused to see me or talk to me, his own father!" Voldemort's voice took on a threatening tone. "He paid for that defiance with his life. Don't let the same thing happen to you."

Harry drew in a deep breath, gathering his courage. "If you want to try to kill me, then go ahead, because I will never join you."

Voldemort pulled out his wand and began to play with it in his hands. "Don't tempt me, Grandson. If you choose to be stubborn, I _will_ do it."

Harry pulled out his wand, readying it in his hand. "Then let's quit wasting time, Voldemort. Prepare to meet your doom."

Voldemort laughed, that high, cold laugh that Harry had heard in his dreams too many times. "You honestly think you can defeat me? A little whelp like you, taking on the greatest wizard that ever lived? You might as well lay down your wand right now, boy, for you have no chance."

"I have no chance?" Harry asked quietly. "I have every chance, Grandfather, and you know it. For I am a Child of the Heir of Slytherin, and your defeat was foretold."

Voldemort sneered. "Perhaps someday, you could defeat me, Grandson, but not yet. You're not powerful enough. Why, you haven't even graduated from Hogwarts! Your overconfidence will be your undoing and, with your death, there will be no one able to defeat me. I will finish what I began decades ago!"

"You may take me down, Voldemort, but you still won't win!" Harry shouted, no longer thinking what he was saying, only wanting to erase the gloating, triumphant, laughing look off of Voldemort's face. "My sister-"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he'd said too much. He'd never meant to bring _her_ up to Voldemort!

He saw that he wasn't the only one who was shocked at the revelation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape give a violent start and glance at Harry, an unreadable expression in his eyes. Snape caught hold of himself quickly, however, and turned back to look at Voldemort.

Voldemort did look surprised, but there was also a calculating look in his eyes that Harry did not like one bit. "Sister..." he mused, using that same strangely gloating tone he'd used on Snape earlier. "So, you have a sister. That means that if you choose not to join me, perhaps she will."

"You'll have to find her first!" Harry said with more bravado than he felt.

"Ah, but, my young grandson, I am quite skilled in finding people that are supposed to be hidden. Aren't I, Severus?" he asked, turning to Snape with a cruel smile on his lips.

Snape said nothing. He just glared at Voldemort, hatred and fury emanating from every pore. But Harry thought he caught the slightest look of fear in Snape's eyes as well.

Voldemort must have seen it as well, because his smile grew even broader for a moment. Then it disappeared as he turned back to Harry. His eyes now holding a serious, deadly look to them, he murmured, "But perhaps my search can be easier this time around. Tell me where she is, boy."

"And why should I?" Harry asked, trying a desperate gamble. As long as he could keep Voldemort talking, there was a chance that something would come to his mind that would save him.

Voldemort smiled, a tight-lipped smile that had no mirth at all in it. "Because, my young grandson, telling me everything you can about your sister is in your best interest." At Harry's questioning look, he continued on. "Oh, no, I'm afraid that you're still going to die. That is, unless you have changed your mind about joining me."

Harry shook his head adamantly.

"Yes, you must die, then. Your potential of fulfilling the prophecy demands your death. But the manner of your passing isn't set in stone. If you tell me where your sister is, I will grant you a quick, merciful death." Voldemort's face was now wearing the most malevolent look Harry had ever seen on it. "If you do not, I will have to torture it out of you, and if I have to go through that extra amount of work, I will make sure that your death is a thing of nightmares." He hissed this last.

Harry knew that he had run out of time. He could think of nothing else he could say or do to put off the inevitable. And Snape looked like he was going to stay out of the entire proceedings. _Well,_ he thought, _looks like this is it. I'm going to die. No one is going to help me. I'm on my own. He's right, I'm not powerful enough to take him out. The best I can do is to somehow not show him how afraid I am._

Harry drew in a deep breath, then put away his wand. "If you're going to kill me, Voldemort, you might as well go ahead and get it over with, because I don't know where she is."

Voldemort sighed almost regretfully. "You have chosen poorly, Harry. You have too much of your father in you. But, never mind, I see you've made your choice. So be it, Potter."

Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it at the defenseless Harry, smiling evilly. Harry braced himself, expecting Voldemort to use the Imperious Curse, but he could never have braced himself enough for what came next. _"Crucio!"_ cried Voldemort.

Harry had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse once before, when Voldemort had first come back into power. He'd thought he would never forget how badly it had hurt, and nightmares still plagued him. His dreams and memories, however, were nothing compared to the pain he was now experiencing. All he could do was writhe helplessly on the floor, every nerve ending on fire. It seemed that even his bones were screaming in agony.

Through the pain, he became aware of a high, cold voice shouting, "Where is your sister?" It seemed that he'd been hearing that question for awhile now. Somehow, he wasn't sure how, he knew that if he answered the question, the pain would stop. He would do anything, _anything,_ if only the pain would stop.

The next thing he became aware of was another voice screaming, "I don't know!" He barely recognized it as his own. The high, cold voice became more insistent as it kept demanding to know the same thing over and over. The voices lost meaning to him as the pain continued on and on, becoming the only important thing in his universe.

Then a third voice spoke over his pain, a voice that seemed familiar to Harry, although he could not place it. "...call on Severus Snape," it urged. "...trust him you must...the one thing that will save you..."

No longer aware of what he was doing, only wanting the pain to stop, Harry screamed, "Snape! Snape, help me! Please help me, Snape, help me, make it stop, Snape, make it STOP!"

And then, miraculously, the pain did stop. Harry lay on the floor, gasping and moaning, trying to recover himself. Voldemort laughed, that same laugh that had haunted Harry's dreams. He opened his eyes to see Voldemort standing over him, lowering his wand, still laughing. He turned his head to look at Snape, now standing next to Voldemort. Snape's face was expressionless, but his breath seemed to be coming faster and, although he appeared to be looking at Harry, his eyes were abstracted, as if deep in thought.

"Your last plea, although truly touching, is wasted. Severus is mine now. He has admitted his error in leaving my service, and has been properly chastised. You, however, are another matter."

All mirth left Voldemort's face. He raised his wand and calmly pronounced, "Now, young Potter, you will die."

_No! Not like this!_ Harry's mind screamed. He tried desperately to struggle to his feet, but he'd only managed to push himself onto one elbow before Voldemort started to utter the Killing Curse. _"Avada Kedav-"_

A flurry of black jumped between Harry and Voldemort before the final syllable could be uttered. "No, Father!" shouted Snape as he leapt on Voldemort, knocking them both to the floor. "You killed my mother; you are not killing my nephew. No more!"

Harry's mouth fell open as he watched the two men grapple. Were his senses muddled, or was what he was seeing and hearing really happening?

Voldemort, struggling to get out from underneath a Snape gone mad, yelled, "What do you think you're doing, Severus?"

"I'm doing something I should've done a long time ago!" snarled Snape.

Voldemort finally managed to break free of Snape, throwing him away from him and lunging for his wand. He and Snape got to their feet at the same time, but by this time Snape also had his wand. Both held them at the ready, neither taking his eyes off the other. They seemed to have forgotten that Harry was even in the room.

Voldemort looked intently at Snape "Severus, you're being a fool! I took you back when I would have killed anyone else. I killed the one person you hated most in the entire world. I offered you power beyond your wildest dreams. And now you would throw it all away over the son of James Potter?"

"Don't speak of James Potter like he's nothing to you!" spat Snape. "I know better than that. I found out the truth my first year at Hogwarts. I also learned you'd been giving money to Potter and his family. They didn't need it, or even want it, but you gave it to them anyway. What about us? Mum and I could've used it far more, but you didn't give us one single Knut! But what hurt even more is that you didn't confide in me. I kept silent, waiting for you to tell me the truth, but you never did."

Snape took a step closer to Voldemort, an anguished, tortured look on his face. "I stayed with you then, Father, even knowing that you were lying to me. I was your strongest supporter. Do you know how proud I was the day you asked me to become a Death Eater? Finally, you'd seen my worth, I thought. I would've followed you to Hell and back!

"But then you ordered me to kill my own mother! A loyalty test, you called it! You _had_ my loyalty!"

"If you were truly loyal to me, my son, you would have done what I ordered without a second thought," growled Voldemort. "You failed your test then, and you've failed it a second time by protecting this boy, a boy you don't even like!"

"Yes, you're right, I don't like Harry Potter." Snape then sighed wearily. "I don't like him, and I hated his father. But he is still my nephew, and therefore I am bound to protect him."

"So, what are you going to do, Severus?" sneered Voldemort as he and Snape circled each other. "Kill me, your own father?"

"Yes, Father," replied Snape firmly, looking for an opening, "I am."

"But you can't!" exclaimed Voldemort. "Only the boy or his sister-"

Snape snorted, but the serious, determined look never left his face. "Whatever gave you that idea? The prophecy said you would meet your match in a Child of the Heir. Last I knew, I was your child." Snape's lips twisted into something approximating a smile, but there was no hint of amusement in his black eyes. "It appears that committing patricide is turning into something of a family tradition."

Voldemort, his back now turned to Harry, snarled, "I'll be happy to continue on another family tradition, the one where I get rid of traitorous, defiant sons!"

Harry knew he had to do something, and fast. Snape was prepared to uphold his vow, but Harry believed that Voldemort was powerful enough to destroy Snape. His wand already in his hand, having been looking for an opportunity like this, Harry forced his aching muscles to point the wand at Voldemort's back and whispered, _"Zingus boltia!"_

A blue bolt of lightning shot out of Harry's wand, hitting Voldemort in the rear end and setting it on fire. Voldemort let out a shriek of surprise. He tried to keep his wand trained on Snape, but found it impossible to do so and put the fire out at the same time.

The diversion gave Snape the few seconds he needed. He shifted his wand off to the side and shouted, _"Portalis Abyssia Takhisis!"_

Black smoke shot out of Snape's wand and quickly coalesced into what appeared to be a rather large black hole. Just looking at it was enough to terrify Harry. It was like being surrounded by dementors, only worse. The hole seemed to suck not only all happiness and joy from the room, but also seemed intent on claiming his very soul.

A shriek full of rage and fury rang in Harry's ears. He forced himself to turn his attention away from the hole and back to the confrontation. Snape had caught hold of Voldemort's arms and was forcing him towards the black hole. "You wouldn't!" cried Voldemort. "You're not capable of such a thing!"

"Oh, yes, I am," panted Snape as he pulled the struggling Voldemort closer and closer to the black hole. "This is where you always sent those of us who had betrayed you; this is where I'm sending one who has done far worse. I can't think of a more fitting end for you. Farewell, Father."

With these words, Snape shoved Voldemort as hard as he could at the portal. The moment Snape released him, Voldemort pointed his wand at Snape. Harry screamed out a warning, but it was too late. Voldemort pressed a button, and the same blade that Harry had seen once before shot out. The sound of tearing fabric and flesh filled the room along with Snape's sharp intake of breath. Harry closed his eyes against the sight of the blade, glistening with blood, protruding from the back of Snape's robes. This did nothing to stop the momentum of Snape's push as Voldemort, still grasping his wand, reeled backwards into the portal. The blade slid cleanly out of the wound, and the last thing Harry saw was the inky blackness closing around the tip of the bloody blade.

Harry lay there, stunned. Time slowed as he stared at Snape, who stood unmoving for a moment, left hand clutching his chest. His wand slipped out of fingers suddenly gone slack. A second later, Snape collapsed.

The dull thud jolted Harry back to reality. Forgetting the pain in his own body, he crawled over to kneel by Snape.

His eyes were closed, his face sweaty and pale. Harry quickly tore off a strip of his own robes and covered the wound. Snape moaned in agony, one hand reaching out to grab Harry's wrist. His grip was painfully tight, but Harry didn't try to break away from it, continuing to keep pressure on the wound.

Snape's eyes opened. His grip loosened to a more comfortable level. "Potter," he murmured.

"Professor Snape, it's going to be all right, I'll get you back to Hogwarts, Madam Pomfrey will be able to do something..." Harry was rambling without any idea what he was saying. He only knew that he had to say something, to _do_ something, that would stop Snape from bleeding to death before his eyes.

"No, Potter, there's nothing you can do," said Snape quietly. "I'm dying. Nothing can stop that now."

"No, Professor, you can't die, not now, not after..." Harry stopped, not knowing how much he should say, fearing that if he said too much, Snape would become furious and tell him nothing.

"What are you going to do, stop death?" said Snape with a trace of his normal acerbic tone. "I don't think even the great Harry Potter can stop death." His eyes flashed angrily for a moment, then clouded as pain hit him again.

Regaining control of himself, Snape looked at Harry once again. "But enough of this. I have more important things to talk about than my condition."

"I have to know," Harry burst out, no longer caring if Snape became angry, "is it true? Are you-"

"Yes, I'm your uncle," Snape bit out, annoyed at the interruption. "Suffice it to say that your father and I are half-brothers. We discovered this fact during our first year at Hogwarts, but never told anyone."

Snape opened his mouth to continue his story, but was taken by another spasm of pain. He squeezed Harry's wrist so tightly that Harry thought it was going to break, but the spasm eased before that could happen, and Snape loosened his grip again.

"What do you know about your sister?" Snape asked, his voice much softer than it had been moments before.

The question caught Harry by surprise. "Er, not very much," he stammered. "I know that my dad sent my mum into hiding when they found out she was pregnant because they were afraid that Voldemort would kill us. My sister was hidden away shortly after we were born to keep her safe. That's about it, really. No one seems to know who hid her or what happened to her."

"I do, Harry," Snape murmured. "I am the one who hid her."

Harry gasped, stunned. " _You_ hid my sister?"

Snape smiled at Harry's surprise. "You never would have guessed, would you?" Harry shook his head. Snape continued on, his voice sounding slightly bitter. "No one would. James Potter, give his daughter to a man he hated? A former Death Eater? Absurd!"

He paused again as another convulsion racked his body. When he resumed speaking, the bitterness had left him. "I was shocked myself when he asked me to hide her. He begged me to take her to a place where she would never be found, and not to tell anyone where she was, not even him."

Snape's hand loosened until he was barely holding onto Harry's wrist. His eyes stared into the past. "I remember holding her in my arms as I stood outside her new home. Her eyes looked up at me with such trust. No one had ever looked at me like that before. I vowed then that my father would never harm Carrie as long as I lived."

Snape's eyes focused once again on Harry. "I saw her settled in with her new family, a Muggle couple, and cast the Fidelius Charm. No one would ever be able to find her. I was the only person who knew her identity and whereabouts. Even her adopted parents wouldn't remember her true name until I divulged the secret to another, thanks to the Memory Charm I put on them."

Harry couldn't take this anymore. "Who is she?" he cried.

"Hermione Granger."

Harry's mouth fell open. He'd thought he'd passed the point of being surprised by anything anyone could tell him, but this just seemed too weird. "Hermione?" he gasped. "That can't be!"

Snape did not reply. He just looked at Harry, but with that one look, Harry became convinced what Snape had said was the truth. Snape's eyes drifted closed, but his chest continued to rise and fall. Then his lips moved.

"She's safe," he breathed, smiling. "I did it, I kept her safe." The smile slowly faded away. The lines of hatred and bitterness that had been etched into his face smoothed, leaving behind a look of such profound peace that it was a few minutes before Harry realized that Snape's hand slipped off of his wrist.

Harry reached up a bloodstained hand to wipe away tears, and it was only then that he realized he was crying. Of all the reactions he'd thought he'd have to Snape's death, this was not one of them.

_Why am I crying?_ he thought. _He hated me. He hated my father. He made Potions class a living nightmare. He was mean not only to me, but to everyone else, unless they were Slytherins. He constantly tried to get me expelled. I should be happy that he's dead._

Even as he tried to harden his heart and stop the tears from coming, other thoughts came in, unbidden. _But he did save my life more than once, even though he hated me. He did have the strength to stand up to his own father when other family members were in danger. It didn't matter to him whether he liked them or not. He still was willing to give his life to save them,_ did _give his life..._

"And you protected my sister," he whispered aloud. "Hermione." He paused, once again marveling that one of his dearest friends had been his sister all this time, and no one had ever known.

He drew in a deep breath. "I have to be honest with you. I don't know what to think about you. It was so much easier just to hate you, but that doesn't seem right anymore. Yet I know I will never like you, or have any pleasant memories of you. I'm crying for you, but I don't know why. I can tell you what I do know, though." He picked up Snape's wand, placed it on his chest, then rested Snape's hands on top of it. "I know that your part in Voldemort's downfall will be known to everyone, and that Hermione will be told the entire story."

He dragged himself to his feet and looked down one last time at Snape's body. "I have to go now. I'll send someone back for you as soon as I can. Until then, farewell...Uncle."

Harry walked out of the room, down the stairs, and outside into the light of dawn.

## The End

**Author's Note:**

> As I said at the beginning of this story, I chose to post this story as is without revising it. If I were to change anything about this story, though, it would be my use of Lupin. I fully realize that he has no control over his werewolf transformations. I knew it at the time I wrote this, but I somehow overlooked this fact when I was writing this story. I'd never written a battle scene before, and I think I was so concerned about it that when it seemed to be finally working, I was relieved and didn't look at it too closely. Lissy, with whom I hashed out a lot of that chapter, apparently never noticed this flaw, either. Please forgive me for it and try not to let it affect your enjoyment of this story.
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters contained within this story are the property of J.K. Rowling and her publishing company. I am making no money off of this story, and wrote it purely for entertainment purposes.


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